


Storms in the City of Water

by KikiTwinTai2



Series: Love and Lightning [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-23 23:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiTwinTai2/pseuds/KikiTwinTai2
Summary: Feliciano and Lovino have rather different ways of dealing with storms, but at least they're not alone.
Relationships: Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Series: Love and Lightning [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607767
Kudos: 16





	1. But It's Not Real (I keep telling myself)

**Author's Note:**

> I originally thought of having these as separate fics, but I think it works better as two chapters. I am also still just as useless at titles, so this comes from the AMV City of Water, based on the doujin Dolphin, which is one of my favourites. Enjoy!
> 
> Mature rating is for the second chapter, the first is T.

Lightning flashed against the sky, lighting up the dim room. Thunder crashed a moment later, making the thin windows rattle. Rain lashed against the windows, as if trying to find its way inside with grasping hands.

Feliciano sat huddled in one corner of the room, clutching his head in his hands. He jumped at every flash, hating his weakness. _If only Luddy were here._ His ally was currently out on patrol, following the commands of his government. Feliciano was left alone, trying to control his anxiety on his own. It wasn’t working very well, leaving him in increasing panic.

He thought longingly of his childhood, when he could simply go running to his grandfather, or Hungary, or even Romano (on the rare occasions he was allowed to see his brother, and even rarer occasions when he wouldn’t simply shrug him off). Now grown and deemed capable of managing his country on his own, he was left to deal with everything alone, unable to turn to anyone for help.

He dug his head deeper between his knees, trying not to cry. He was a grown man, he shouldn’t be so scared of a simple storm. It was simply atmospheric pressure reacting with the electrical charge of the air, after all. Just weather. It was nothing to be scared of.

His attempts at rationalising did not work. He felt his heart race and his breath shorten, signalling the beginning of a too-familiar panic attack. He couldn’t even make himself get up to try and turn on the lights, not that the electricity would be likely to work during a storm of this ferocity. He clutched the fabric of his shirt, his hands digging into his arms.

Vaguely, he heard a noise. A harsh knocking, thumping on the door. A voice shouted over the storm.

“Italia? Open up!”

He knew that voice. He sobbed in relief, stumbling as he managed to stand up and stretch his sore limbs. He ran over to the door, throwing it open and flinging himself into the arms of the person standing there.

Ludwig, for once, allowed himself to hug Feliciano. He had to admit that this storm was rather fierce, even given his own country’s violent summer weather. He allowed the two of them to stand there for a moment, then pushed him back gently and held him at arms’ length.

“I am glad to see you too, Italia, but can I come inside? This rain isn’t going to stop any time soon.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, you’re getting all wet.”

Feliciano jumped back, then dragged Ludwig inside the house. He kept one hand fisted in the material of Ludwig’s shirt. The tall blond sighed, then turned around and locked the door behind him. Feliciano stood still, trembling at every flash and crack of the storm. Ludwig took off his soaked jacket and hat, placing them carefully in the hall, then walked into the kitchen. He tried flicking the lights, unsurprised when nothing happened.

Luckily, Feliciano’s kitchen ran on gas, allowing him to light a match and turn on the hob. He busied himself with boiling water and making something. Feliciano clung to him the whole time. After a while Ludwig simply picked him up and carried him through to the lounge, then set him down on a couch, wrapping a blanket around him.

“Don’t move. I won’t be long, alright?”

Feliciano nodded, comforted now that Ludwig was there. Ludwig sighed and went back into the kitchen. True to his word, he reappeared after about twenty minutes, holding two plates of something. He put one plate in front of Feliciano, then went back into the kitchen, coming back out with two steaming cups of coffee. Again, he placed one in front of Feliciano, then sat next to him.

Feliciano stirred, smelling the food in front of him. His stomach growled painfully, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in hours, too scared to move with the raging storm. He gave a tentative smile when he saw the plate. Pasta. Of course. He busied himself with eating for a few minutes, then looked up at Ludwig, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Say, Germany.”

The blond looked up at him from his own plate. “Ja, Italy?”

“How come you’re here? I’m so glad you are, but you were supposed to be on training, right? Will they be mad you left?”

Ludwig resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he replied calmly. “Look outside, Italy. Do you really think any army would allow its citizens to train in such weather?”

Feliciano bit his lip, feeling stupid. “Oh, right,” he muttered, feeling stupid for having asked.

The two finished their food in silence, save for the sound of the storm still raging outside. Feliciano had just reached for his coffee when a loud crash sounded from the garden. He jumped, spilling the hot coffee over himself. He cried out in pain as the liquid scalded him.

Ludwig was at his side in an instant.

“Take them off.”

“Huh?” Feliciano looked up at him, confused.

“Take your trousers off. You’ll scald yourself if you keep them on.”

Feliciano blushed. Ludwig sighed and turned away. “Go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. I’ll get you new clothes. And for myself, too.”

Feliciano obeyed, hurrying into the bathroom and stripping quickly. The shower was still working, luckily, and he jumped in, enjoying the feeling of the hot water flowing over his skin.

He heard a knock at the door. “Italy, I’ve got a change of clothes for you. I’ll leave them here, alright?”

Feliciano nodded, then realised that Ludwig couldn’t see him. “Ok!” he called out. Too late, he realised he could have asked Ludwig to join him. He cursed inwardly at his stupidity.

Finishing his shower, he got out and dried off quickly, changing into fresh clothes. Ludwig had been sensible as always, taking Feliciano’s usual shorts and tank top as nightclothes. He looked around for his watch, seeing it on the pile of clothes, and checked the time.

9pm. He had been sat in the kitchen longer than he thought. He gathered up his clothes and went out into the hallway, shivering slightly as the cool air hit the bare skin of his arms and legs.

He went into his bedroom, seeing Ludwig standing towelling his hair. He was shirtless, and Feliciano felt his face heat at seeing the muscles of his arms slide as Ludwig moved. He coughed, setting his clothes down in a corner of the room. Ludwig turned as he heard the smaller man enter the room.

“U-uh, you can take a shower if you want. Are you cold? It’s raining really hard, and you haven’t changed yet, and there’s clothes in the drawer, and towels in the bathroom, and, uh…” his voice trailed off as he realised he was babbling.

The two stood in silence for a moment, then a sudden boom of thunder cut through the silence. Feliciano screamed, then dived onto the bed unconsciously. Ludwig sighed and drew the covers over Feliciano.

“Rest. I won’t be long.” Feliciano heard him walk out of the room, then the distant sound of water running as Ludwig showered. He dug himself into the bed, shuddering at the sounds of the storm. He tried to block it out, trying to think of something, anything, to take the fear away. His thoughts turned to the man across the hall. _I wonder what he looks like right now?_ Unbidden thoughts rose to his mind, his body filling with heat, and he hurriedly tried to shut them out before it was too late.

Trying to clear his mind didn’t work. His heart hammered in a mixture of panic and a feeling he didn’t want to put a name to. _Hurry up, Germany,_ he thought. He both wished the taller man would hurry up and hoped he wouldn’t come out for long enough for this feeling to subside.

Too soon, he heard the shower shut off and Ludwig walk back into the room, then felt the bed dip as he sat beside him. Feliciano drew the covers tighter over himself, concealing his flushed face. Luckily, Ludwig did not try to draw them back. Instead, Feliciano felt a hand on top of his head, stroking gently.

“Italia? I’m here now. Are you alright?”

Feliciano nodded frantically. “u-uh, yes. I think so. I- AAAH!”

He screamed as another crack of thunder cut through the room. He whimpered, clutching the blanket tighter. He stayed like that for a moment, shuddering in fear. Ludwig sighed, then took hold of the blanket gently and drew it back. Feliciano turned his head away, not wanting him to see the tears on his face.

He laughed weakly, then drew his hand up to wipe his face. With his face covered by his arm, he muttered, “I’m really pathetic, aren’t I? A grown man, an immortal personification, still crying at a storm. You must hate me.”

Ludwig frowned, sitting back on the bed. “Why would I hate you?” he asked, his voice as close to tender as Feliciano had ever heard from him.

Feliciano stared at him in surprise. “B-because you’re strong, and tall, and nothing ever scares you. You’re always having to rescue me and I don’t do anything in return. All I ever do is mess stuff up. I even made you come back earlier from your training.”

He peeked at Ludwig, then hid his face in the pillow, scared to see his reaction. The blond frowned, then his face softened, looking at Feliciano with what looked almost like a smile.

“I don’t mind. Of course I want you to be a little more…self-aware, but that’s another matter. And I came back of my own accord, if you remember. The training was cancelled, so I naturally came here. And you are entirely wrong on the other point.”

Feliciano raised his head from the pillow, frowning in confusion. “What?”

Ludwig looked away, embarrassed. Muttering, he said, “You are wrong that nothing scares me. There are plenty of things I fear for.”

Feliciano perked up at that. “Really? Like what?”

Ludwig thought for several long moments before replying. “The safety of my land, my people. We countries bear the pressure of the events of our land, after all. There is always the possibility of war, unrest, natural disasters. I worry for my brother, my fellow countries. That-‘ he coughed slightly – ‘includes you, Italia.”

“Oh,” was all Feliciano could answer to that. He sat up slightly, pushing himself up on his arms. He raised himself into a sitting position, turning until he was facing Ludwig, his legs crossed in front of him. He tilted his head to one side, coyly.

“Do you worry about me more than anyone else?”

Ludwig looked away again, a flush rising on his pale cheeks.

“What sort of question is that? Of course I worry about you more than anyone. You give me far more reason to worry. No-one else requires such constant care.”

Feliciano giggled, his fear over the storm now almost forgotten on seeing the stoic blond so obviously embarrassed. He decided to push the matter even further.

“So you care for me, then?”

Ludwig turned back to face him sharply, his eyes going wide, then looked away again. He raised a hand to hide his face. Feliciano giggled again. This was fun!

“T-that’s beside the point. You are my ally, I am required to care for your well-being. I would do the same for any other. Japan, Austria, my brother…” his voice trailed into silence.

Feliciano, feeling bold, leaned forward and pecked a kiss to Ludwig’s cheek.

“Well, I care for you, Germany.”

He sat back, staring at his hands. “And I’m sorry for being so useless.”

He laughed softly again. “I guess I _am_ ‘useless Italy’, after all.”

He risked looking up at Ludwig, peeking up at him from under his eyelashes. He couldn’t help smiling when he saw the other man holding one hand to his cheek in shock.

“Uh, what did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

Feliciano shook his head. “Nothing!” he said brightly.

“Right.” Ludwig did not look convinced, but let it slide.

The two listened to the sounds of the storm in silence. Lightning flashed intermittently, followed by rumbles of thunder. Feliciano bit his lip, trying to ignore his fear now that Ludwig was beside him. He shut his eyes, his hands clutching the fabric of the sheets.

Suddenly, he felt Ludwig’s hand on top of his head again, stroking his hair in slow movements. He relaxed, leaning in to his touch.

He felt Ludwig push him down until he was lying on the bed. He drew the covers up over him, then continued stroking his head. He felt the warmth of Ludwig’s hand leave him for a moment, and opened his eyes, raising his head slightly. He watched as Ludwig made his way around the bed, then raised the covers and slid in next to him. He drew Feliciano next to him, his back against Ludwig’s broad chest. His hand ran up and down Feliciano’s arms in slow strokes. The movement lulled him into a doze, his body finally relaxing in the safety of Ludwig’s warm arms. On the edge of sleep, he thought he heard Ludwig say something in a soft voice, the words hazily reaching his tired mind.

“Sleep, Feli. I’ll here with you.”

He snuggled into Ludwig, turning until they were facing each other. They fell asleep like that, the sound of the storm outside gradually dying down until the stillness of the night matched the peace of the two, sleeping soundly in each other’s arms.


	2. On a Clear Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've written smut, and will probably be the last, and yet its the longest one so far. Go figure. I deliberately went for being vague over explicit, but concrit is welcome. Enjoy!

Rain lashed down on the pavements of the Piazza di Spagna, for once deserted of its usual hundreds of tourists. No one else was stupid enough to be outside during weather like this, and not at this time of night, either. 

No-one except a pair of men, dashing frantically through the rain, the smaller pulling the taller behind him with a furious expression as the rain plastered their hair in front of their eyes. 

Lovino cursed under his breath as he ran. _God dammit, why does it have to be raining so fucking hard!_

His lungs were burning. It hadn’t been raining when they set out, damn it all, so how did the storm come on so suddenly? _You damn fool, Lovino. Take a fucking umbrella with you next time, you idiot._

“Come on, Antonio! We’re getting fucking soaked! Hurry up, will you, bastard!” he yelled.

He glanced back at the man clutching his hand. For some reason, Antonio was smiling, seeing unconcerned with the water pounding down on his head and running down his body. Lovino shook his head, deciding it wasn't worth wasting the breath needed for running. If he wanted to test the limits of their immortality, that was up to him. 

They ran for a few minutes longer, taking whatever twists and turns Lovino could think of as short cuts. Eventually, he stopped outside a small, narrow house. He let go of Antonio’s hand and fumbled in his pocket for the key, unlocking the door with shaking hands and throwing it open. He dragged Antonio in after him, then collapsed against the wall, panting heavily. After a moment he reached down, bracing himself against the wall, and ripped his shoes off.

“ _Never_ do that again, Antonio, you stupid bastard.” He glared across at Antonio, who was standing with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. At Lovino’s words, he looked up, his face relaxing in an easy smile.

“I’m sorry, Romano. I genuinely didn’t know it was going to rain,” he apologised.

“Of course you didn’t, clueless idiot,” Lovino said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like the weather forecast wasn’t predicting a 99% certainty of rain heading straight for us, and I was too stupid to listen to it. What are you staring at, bastard?”

Antonio smiled flirtatiously at him, ignoring his anger with centuries of practice.

“That looks suits you, Lovino,” he said, almost purring.

Lovino looked down at himself, blushing furiously when he saw the thin fabric of his shirt and pants clinging to his body, leaving little to the imagination.

“Y-you bastard! Pervert! I hate you!” he stormed off, running upstairs. Antonio watched him, admiring the view and laughing to himself. He took his own shoes off, then followed Lovino upstairs, making his way into the familiar bedroom.

The room was unmistakeably Lovino’s, with clothes and furniture scattered around haphazardly. The bed stood in the middle of the room, headboard against the wall. A dresser and wardrobe were against the other wall, with a small table and chair set in one corner next to the window. Shutters, the white painted over in a pale green, covered the windows, thin curtains flowing in the fierce wind from the storm. Antonio strode over and shut them, then closed the curtains, hiding the room from outside.

He went over to the wardrobe where he knew Lovino kept spare clothes for him, taking out a shirt and pair of trousers. Not that he particularly intended to put them on, or at least keep them on for very long, so long as he played his cards right.

He heard Lovino running a shower, the water splashing and echoing in the small apartment. Antonio grinned to himself, then walked across the room, masking his footsteps. He paused for a moment outside the bathroom, making sure Lovino wouldn’t hear him, then eased open the door.

He peeked across the room. Lovino’s clothes were piled in a mess on the floor, as usual.

Antonio stepped inside, stripped his own clothes off, then looked over. The shower was misted up from the heat of the water, but he could see Lovino’s silhouette faintly. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the light, Antonio noticed.

So much the better, he thought, smiling to himself. He paced silently across the room, stopping in front of the shower door. Lovino was facing the wall, his head tipped up to the shower, letting the water stream over him. Antonio whistled appreciatively at the sight.

Lovino whipped round at the sound, his face furious. He opened his mouth to speak, then sputtered as he involuntarily inhaled the water running down his face from his soaking hair. His foot slipped on the wet surface of the floor, and he almost fell. Quickly, Antonio flung open the shower door and caught him.

“Falling for me already, Lovi?”

The man in his arms glared, his face flushed from anger and the heat of the steamy shower. “Get your hands off me, you perverted bastard.”

Antonio simply laughed again, setting Lovino upright. “You should be more careful in the shower, Lovino. You could trip.”

Lovino struggled out of Antonio’s grip, but made no move to distance himself.

“You bastard. You did that on purpose,” he muttered.

“Si,” Antonio admitted brazenly. Lovino huffed, folding his arms and refusing to look at his partner, a fierce blush rising to his face.

If Lovino really didn’t want him there, Antonio would have stepped out, no matter how much his body would have wanted otherwise. A hint of a smile played on his lips, though, and Antonio knew that Lovino wanted this just as much.

Antonio took the chance and stepped forward into the shower, reaching behind him to shut the door. They stood in silence for a moment, water pouring down on them both from the shower head.

Lovino kept stubbornly staring at the wall. Antonio leaned in again, bracing his hands on either side of the younger man.

“Lo~vi. Look at me.”

Strangely, Lovino complied immediately, staring forward to face Antonio. He refused to look up at his face, however, and kept his gaze on Antonio’s smooth tanned chest. Antonio let him stay like that for a moment, gazing lovingly down at him. He knew from so many years of experience that Lovino was still unsure when it came to physical contact.

His waiting paid off, as after a few moments Lovino hesitantly reached out his hands and placed them on Antonio’s chest. He stood still, letting Lovino do what he wished. He ran his hands slowly over Antonio’s smooth, strong chest, then over his arms, his smaller hands barely reaching around the muscles.

Antonio would never say it, but he loved Lovino like this. For all that he put up an act in public, this was the secret side of him that only Antonio was allowed to see.

Lovino was blushing furiously now, his face furrowed in concentration as he continued to run his hands over Antonio’s body, still stubbornly refusing to look up at him. Antonio knew that this was Lovino’s way of punishing him, deliberately moving his hands in agonising slowness. Antonio didn’t mind, however. It would only make what would follow all the more pleasurable. Besides, his hands had now strayed lower, fingertips grazing his abdomen, his navel, then inching downward.

Lovino’s hands had the desired effect, and they both knew it. Suddenly, Antonio gasped, bracing his hands on the wall. He stopped himself from looking down. Although he couldn’t see his face, he knew Lovino would be smirking now.

He felt Lovino take him into his mouth, made slick by water still running over them both. He moved his head skilfully, his hands lightly gripping Antonio’s thighs, face locked in a fierce frown of concentration. Antonio fought to stay still, even as he felt himself nearing release and his knees begin to buckle.

Lovino felt his tensing, and began roaming his hands up and down along Antonio’s thighs, then inching between and tickling what he found there. That did it for Antonio, shooting hotly into Lovino’s mouth. He had thought Lovino would release him after that, but to his surprise Lovino grinned and swallowed, sucking harshly along the length before releasing with a wet pop.

He finally looked up at Antonio. Dark satisfaction was written over his face, smirking up at his lover. Water ran over his face, washing away the last traces trickling down his chin.

“I’m looking at you now, Spaniard. Do you like what you see?” Lovino teased him sensuously.

Antonio could only respond with a deep moan of need, still high on the feeling of release. God, Lovino was so damn _good_ at this!

He couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Lovino’s hands and hauled him up, barely remembering to turn the shower off, then lifted him and threw him roughly over his shoulder, ignoring his cry of protest.

“What the! Put me down, stupid Spagna!”

“Lo siento, no hablo italiano!” Antonio replied cheerfully. He tightened his hold on Lovino in response to his wriggling, digging his fingers in to maintain his grip.

Lovino suddenly let out what sounded remarkably like a giggle. “Let g-go, bastard,” he protested weakly, face flushing at Antonio’s grin.

“Wh-not like that!” he cried as Antonio threw him down on the bed, still dripping wet.

“You idiot,” he stated flatly. “I hate you.”

“mm, si,” Antonio agreed. “I love you too, Lovi.”

He braced his arms above Lovino carefully, then pressed a light, testing kiss to his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his nose, and finally his lips, lingering and deep. Lovino kissed him back with surprising force, his face red and flushed with need.

Antonio grinned darkly. “Shall I return the favour, _mi amore_?” he whispered huskily, sending shivers down Lovino’s spine.

Lovino could only nod weakly, and turned his head to the side. Antonio took the opportunity, and began a trail of kisses down Lovino’s body. He started by pressing his kips lightly just below Lovino’s earlobe, sucking slightly on the soft skin, then trailed his lips down the side of his neck, across his chest, and down his stomach. He lingered in some places, his mouth leaving dark bruises across Lovino’s skin, before stopping just below Lovino’s navel.

He looked up at Lovino one last time, as if for reassurance. No matter how many times they had done this, he still asked Lovino each time, and Lovino loved him deeply for it.

“Are you ready, Lovi?”

Lovino nodded, still looking away. He brought a hand up to over his mouth, almost unconsciously.

Antonio smiled softly at the sight, then lowered his head. He took Lovino into his mouth, slowly working his lips and tongue in the same way Lovino had done for him. Antonio, however, did so with infinite gentleness, working Lovino’s length slowly. He paused occasionally to look up at his lover. Lovino was, as always, blushing madly, his hand held tight against his mouth. Regardless, small moans escaped him, each one working to send Antonio into a new frenzy. He worked his mouth faster, eagerly. Lovino gasped, arching his hips up involuntarily. The movement made him sink deeper into Antonio’s mouth, his tip reaching the back of his throat. Antonio took the chance and sucked harshly.

Now it was Lovino’s turn to go over the edge. He shot into Antonio’s mouth, his name ringing throughout the room with a soft cry. Hearing his lover’s desperate call, Antonio grinned, wiping his mouth and releasing Lovino, then gazing up at him in possessive satisfaction. He moved until he was once again braced over Lovino, staring at him lovingly. Lovino lay below him, quivering slightly with the passion of his release, eyes closed in pleasure. Antonio kissed the closed lids, then did as before and covered his face in small, tender kisses, returning to his eyelids just as Lovino opened them and gazed at him.

This was the only time Lovino was true to his feelings, when he lay open and exposed beneath him. As always, Antonio sent a silent prayer to whoever had let them meet. That they should both live like this, as personifications; immortal, unchanging beings, was nothing short of a miracle. None of them fully understood the reason why they existed at all, and that was exactly why Antonio was forever grateful that the two of them were here, like this, together. Unable to live like their citizens, falling in and out of love, having children, growing up and growing old together, it could be _so lonely_. That was why he treasured Lovino. He had waited so long for him to return his feelings, had given up and focussed on his country, and his duty. Now Lovino was here, and, no matter how much he tried to hide it to the outside world, willing to return his love with a passion just as fierce.

Lovino must have realised that Antonio’s thoughts had gone elsewhere, as his face looked decidedly irritated. “What are you staring at, bastard? You are supposed to be looking at _me_.”

This side of him was utterly adorable. While he would play the brat in public, during the time they were alone like this Lovino would become utterly possessive, demanding Antonio’s attention completely. He, of course, gave it, every time.

“I’m sorry, Lovi. I was thinking.”

Lovino quirked an eyebrow, still angry. “About what?” he asked, annoyed that Antonio had made no further move.

“You.”

Lovino flushed again. “y-yeah? So you should be.”

Antonio gave a soft laugh and nuzzled into Lovino’s shoulder. He mumbled something against his skin, making Lovino wriggle away. “What did you say? I can’t hear you like that. Speak louder, damn it.”

Now Antonio’s face turned sly. He lifted himself over Lovino again. “Louder, hmm? Shall I see how loud you can be, huh? You were pretty loud before.”

Lovino gasped and flushed even deeper red, if that was possible. He wormed a hand out from Antonio’s brace and flung it over his face, muttering something.

“Oh? Is that an invitation, Lo~vi?” Antonio whispered. Lovino tried to bury himself into the sheet, away from Antonio.

“Lo~vi.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered again, glaring at him.

“Of course! That’s exactly what I intend to do!” Antonio said, grinning. Lovino looked away and refused to look at the other man.

Antonio kept grinning, and after a moment Lovino’s shoulders started shaking with repressed laughter.

“You’re such a stupid idiot,” he groaned.

Antonio nodded. “Si,” he agreed again. “But see, I made you laugh.”

“Bastard, no you didn’t.”

The soft grin on Lovino’s face said otherwise.

They sat like that for a moment, Lovino refusing to turn to face Antonio. He couldn’t help lifting his arm to peek at him, though, seeing him still grinning happily.

“Lo~vi,” Antonio said, leaning down. “Please don’t be mad. It was funny. Or at least I thought so.”

Lovino raised an eyebrow. “What, did you _practise_ that?”

Antonio shrugged, smiling.

Lovino’s lips twitched as he fought not to let a smile rise to his face again. It didn’t work, and he ended up snorting in laughter.

“You are so stupid.”

He shook his head and sat up, letting the sheet fall to his hips.

Antoni felt as Lovino’s lips pressed softly into his own, and opened his mouth slowly, letting Lovino have control. He opened his eyes, confused, as Lovino drew back.

“My,” a kiss to his cheek, and he closed his eyes again, grinning,

“Stupid,” to the other,

“ _Spagna_ ,” Lovino breathed out.

They kissed deeply, slowly, exploring each other’s mouths tenderly. Antonio sat stock still as Lovino broke the kiss and sat back, then began to do the same as he had before, running his hands over Antonio’s body slowly. He pushed on his back slightly, and Antonio shuffled forward obediently until he was sitting in the middle of the bed.

Lovino pressed kisses all around Antonio’s body, across his chest and back, up and down his neck, and along his sides, his lips trailing every inch of skin. Antonio fought to stay still, each feather-light touch sending shivers across his skin. As before, Lovino knew exactly what effect he was having, and blew softly across Antonio’s skin, making him gasp. He loved when Lovino took control like this.

Lovino’s touches were beginning to work in other ways. Antonio tried to stay still, but each of Lovino’s kisses was slowly but surely driving him crazy.

Without warning, he sat up sharply, grabbed Lovino and threw him back down on the bed. Lovino, however, was having none of it. In the moment Antonio bent over him, he used the taller man’s momentum to flip them again, moving so that he was sitting on top of Antonio. He glared down imperiously. Antonio simply grinned at him.

Lovino ground down on him, hard, and pointedly. Antonio groaned in pleasure.

“Are you gonna make me wait all day, Spagna?” Lovino asked.

Antonio gazed up at him, love written all over his face. Slowly, so slowly, he sat up and captured Lovino in a fierce hug, then reached around him to the bedside table and took a small bottle, uncapping it and squirting the liquid into his hand. He coated his fingers thoroughly. Lovino waited until he was finished, then sat forward in his lap, his arms reaching around him to clutch his shoulders tightly.

Antonio lifted Lovino slightly until he had enough room, then pushed a finger in slowly. Lovino gasped in pain, stiffening, at the sensation of the cold liquid then relaxed as Antonio began stretching him. A second skilful finger joined the first, then another, curling and scissoring with practised tenderness and ease. Lovino clutched him tightly, his eyes tightly shut. Once he was ready, Antonio drew out and placed the other hand gently against Lovino’s cheek. He kissed him deeply again, then slowly lay back.

Lovino took the signal, and lowered himself carefully onto Antonio. He let Lovino take all the time he needed. Lovino eased himself down, gasping and panting slightly. He waited a few moments for the pain to fade, then began to move. He rode him slowly at first, his hips moving back and forth, then began to work in tiny circles.

Antonio let him settle into a rhythm, then slowly sat up, rising until their faces touched. The movement made Lovino gasp harshly, moaning in pleasure. Damn, but Antonio sure knew exactly what to do. He finally opened himself completely, letting his emotions show. He called Antonio’s name over and over, his voice full of the love that he would only ever show during their most intimate moments. Antonio, in turn, said Lovino’s name over and over, turning the syllables into something like a mantra.

They moved faster and faster, each knowing instinctively what to do to elicit the greatest pleasure. As they felt themselves nearing release for the second time, they sped up, their cries coming in time with their thrusts. The storm outside only added to the tempest inside the room, the hammering of the rain and intermittent flashes of lightning making for a counterpart to their passion.

In what Antonio thought must be the work of god, it seemed the storm reached a crescendo with them. They spent themselves for the second time, holding each other tightly, their grasp make slick with sweat and passion. They stayed like that for a few moments, riding out the last of their pleasure with each other. They sat with their foreheads touching, Lovino’s eyes closed in bliss. Antonio smiled and licked away the tears leaking from the corner of his lover’s eyes, marvelling that even after so many times, Lovino was _his_ , and only his. He lowered his head, afraid to let Lovino see the tears that were springing to his own eyes.

He could not hide it completely, however. He felt Lovino’s arms release him, reaching up to tangle in his hair. He began to stroke his head gently, whispering the words of promise and love that he saved for this precise moment. Antonio relaxed into his touch, his arms slipping down until he gripped Lovino tightly around his waist. Lovino made a small noise of surprise, and Antonio loosened his grip slightly. Lovino was the one to wait this time, letting Antonio regain his composure. The brunette lifted himself until they separated, then lay them both down until they faced each other on the bed. Antonio released his hold for a moment, allowing Lovino to sit up and pick the abandoned covers from the floor, then draw them over them both until they were cocooned in the blankets.

“Ti amo, _Spagna_ ,” Lovino whispered, then kissed Antonio’s cheek. Antonio opened his eyes and gazed at Lovino in wonder.

“Te amo, _mi sur de Italia,_ ” Antonio replied, his voice low with love and sleep. He yawned.

“ _My little Lovi. My Romano,_ ” he said. Lovino blushed, then lay down, snuggling into Antonio. He was asleep in moments.

Antonio smiled, kissing Lovino’s hair, then drew his arm around him, holding him softly. He felt himself drawing close to sleep, and welcomed it. Outside, the storm had moved on, as if it’s raging intensity had spent itself along with the lovers. Only the gentle patter of the rain was left, and that too soon died down, leaving the night calm, silent and still.


End file.
